Chapter 11 #3
Sure, Grant was in attendance, but he’d mostly sulked in the corner, sitting on his phone and making the uneven teams irrelevant.
She followed Reese upstairs as Margie and Sharon settled in with another bottle of wine on the sofa. Stan had headed to bed, and Grant and Brynn had already disappeared, though she didn’t much care where.
It wasn’t until they reached the landing that Sydney’s trepidation flared up, her footsteps leading her closer and closer to the bedroom where she and Reese would be sleeping tonight.
First and foremost, she needed to apologize to Reese for whatever had happened earlier today.
The desire she’d felt had been all-consuming, swirling around in her body and propelling her forward before she’d understood what was happening. It wasn’t like she’d never seen an attractive person before.
But Reese had been so unguarded and playful, and Sydney had gotten caught up in the moment.
She was still thinking about how she’d apologize when the door clicked closed behind her, something she’d apparently done when she felt the cold metal beneath her fingertips.
“I was going to get ready for bed,” Reese said, already digging around in her weekend bag on top of the comforter. “Did you need to get into the en suite?”
“I’m sorry,” Sydney said before she lost her nerve. She stepped over to the side of the bed where she’d be sleeping, plunging her hands into her bag to stop them from shaking. Or to, at least, stop Reese from seeing it.
“Sorry?” Reese repeated, her brows furrowing. “For what? I agreed with you that it was my fault during charades for not realizing when you stretched your arms out and pretended to fly that the answer was Titanic .”
Exasperated, Sydney let out a strangled sound.
Why was this so hard? Maybe because she felt like an idiot, getting carried away like she had.
Sydney stood up to her full height and willed herself to continue. “I’m sorry about earlier today. In the fitting room.”
Reese’s eyebrow drew upward, and a look that Sydney couldn’t decipher passed across her features. “Why are you apologizing? You didn’t do anything wrong,” Reese said matter-of-factly.
“I know that this situation is already complicated enough, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable with anything I did.” There. That was a passable apology, even if Sydney’s insides wobbled like jelly while she waited for Reese’s response.
Reese zipped up her bag and placed it on the floor before she started walking toward the bathroom. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, but you were probably right to stop things before they went too far.”
Sydney clocked the ‘probably,’ her heart skittering as she wondered if there was a part of Reese that had wanted them to keep going.
But she didn’t have time to dwell on that. Damage control was the name of the game. “So we’re okay?”
At the doorway, Reese turned around, giving Sydney an appraising stare. “Yes, Sydney. I promise, we’re okay.”
Before she had time to respond, Reese shut the door into the bathroom.
Sydney flopped down on the bed forcefully, groaning into the mattress. “Get it together,” she said into the pillow she’d found and shoved under her head, not that she deserved the extra comfort.
With Reese safely ensconced in the bathroom, those what-ifs had time to flit through Sydney’s mind again.
Probably. What did probably mean?
Probably, as in things would have gotten weird if they’d kept going? Or probably, as in it would change everything, and maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world?
Either way, that ‘probably’ signaled possibility, something that Sydney was already deep in her awareness of in the last few days.
A year ago, Sydney wouldn’t have thought twice about going after what she wanted. Not in the relationship sense, since she and Grant were still together, but if there was something she wanted to achieve, she’d been unrelenting in her pursuit of it.
Three years ago, she’d gotten her parents the house they loved, even though it hadn’t been on the market.
Two years ago, she’d snagged one of the top coaches in Florida, intent on improving her game and making her name in the Grand Slam finals a common occurrence.
Early last year, she’d won two smaller tournaments in the first three months of the tour, solidifying herself as a contender to be reckoned with.
It was like there was a massive line cleaved straight down the middle of her life, before and after she’d discovered Grant’s infidelity. Now, she didn’t know who—or what—to trust, especially not when her own judgment was concerned.
Sydney was attracted to Reese; that was just a statement of fact. And she felt more like herself whenever they spent time together. Alight. Curious. Playful.
But given her track record for the last year, she wasn’t the best one to push anything between them. Reese was the one with complicated family dynamics on her side, and it wasn’t fair for Sydney to muddle their agreement when any ensuing fallout would land more heavily on Reese’s shoulders.
Which was a lot easier to convince herself of until Reese stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in boyshorts and a soft, almost threadbare T-shirt with the Stanford logo on it.
Sydney felt her pulse low in her stomach, a dull ache at the sight of her .
“All done?” she practically squeaked as she hopped up from the bed.
Reese nodded, and Sydney slipped quickly into the bathroom.
Just like they had in the bedroom, Sydney’s thoughts warred within her, and it wasn’t until she looked at her watch that she realized she’d been hiding out over the sink for almost half an hour.
After changing, brushing her teeth, and washing her face, she’d spent the other, oh, twenty-two minutes in various states of distress.
“Ugh. She’s going to think I’m having a meltdown in here.” Which wasn’t that far from the truth.
Also, when had Sydney started talking to herself so much? She really needed to call Hallie, but at least she’d see her tomorrow to work through everything.
But she knew, if Hallie was here, she’d tell her to buck up and get her ass out there. Nothing good ever happened from sitting on the bench.
With that in mind, she opened the door and tried to summon courage she didn’t feel to get into bed next to Reese and pretend like she wasn’t a complete tongue-tied loser.
Reese, again, wasn’t making it easy for her, lying as she was under the covers with her pillows propped behind her as she read a book.
Was being aroused from someone else looking comfortable a thing? It seemed plausible, if Sydney’s bodily response was any indication.
“What are you reading?” she asked, slipping under the covers as unobtrusively as she could manage.
Reese rested the book on her stomach, and Sydney made sure not to think about how she’d touched that skin only hours ago. “A management book on best practices for integrating yourself with new teams.”
“Very… specific.” Sydney took a chance and sn uggled a little farther under the covers. Stan and Margie had great taste in bedding.
“It’s boring as all hell,” Reese admitted with a wry grin, “but I’m committed to doing things right at The Stone’s Throw.”
And things like that! Why did Reese have to be genuinely kind and want to do a great job at her work, even if she was the owner and, in reality, could do whatever she wanted?
But instead of Reese picking her book back up and leaving the conversation there, she rubbed at the corner of it, staring at Sydney intently.
“What’s on your mind?” Sydney finally asked, the not-knowing worse than whatever Reese would say. Probably.
“You didn’t believe my father’s story about an emergency at one of his properties, right?”
The tension evaporated from Sydney’s body, and she let out a horse laugh. “No. Not in a million fucking years.”
Reese’s face grew serious then, and she shifted sideways to look directly at Sydney. “Which would make me assume that he was so infuriated with what I’d said at lunch that he couldn’t stand to keep his composure for the rest of the day.” Her voice was morose, like she hated what she was admitting.
Sydney hadn’t thought of it like that, but Reese had a very genuine point. “It seems likely.”
“Shocking that Grant isn’t the biggest asshole in my family,” Reese bit out, her words sharp.
“What’s the deal there, if you don’t mind me asking?” Sydney said softly, treading as lightly as she could. “Why wouldn’t he be happy about your success?”
It was well and truly a foreign concept to Sydney, a parent who didn’t want the absolute best for their children.
Reese grew contemplative, her lips twitching back and forth before she finally settled on her words. “I’ve always wanted my father’s approval. He’s known that, and no matter what I’ve done or achieved, he couldn’t find the willingness to give it to me.”
“So everything he said about wanting you to come work at The Devereux Group today?”
“He’ll say whatever he needs to stay on Stan’s good side. I wouldn’t be surprised if he orchestrated the entire engagement between Brynn and Grant at this point.”
That was a sobering thought for Sydney, not that it changed Grant’s undeniable infidelity. But it was a level of malfeasance that was difficult to wrap her mind around.
“I’m sure it’s hard,” she said, “knowing what an amazing woman you are and still having someone like him refuse to celebrate it.”
Reese pulled a face. “What does it all matter if the people around me don’t love and support me? If I’m just moving from one business venture to the next, never feeling like I have a safe place to land?”
Sydney thought maybe this was about more than just family, but she stuck to the topic at hand.
“I don’t think that’s true,” she said, grabbing Reese’s hand from on top of the covers. “Your mom is so proud of you. You can’t fake that.”
And Sydney meant it. Sharon Devereux clearly loved her daughter, and in spite of Tripp’s negative reaction, she’d looked at Reese like she’d never been more proud of her when Reese had made her announcement at lunch.
Except, as Sydney said the words, Reese’s eyes welled up, and large, fat tears immediately streamed down her face. “I haven’t been treating my mom well.”
Sydney couldn’t envision a world where Reese wasn’t good to people, her mom especially. “You lived across the country until a few weeks ago. You’re back, and your relationship seems like it’s in a really positive place, at least from where I sit.”
“She had cancer, and she didn’t tell me,” Reese choked out. “She already had the surgery and everything.”
The words were like a gut punch to Sydney. All she wanted to do was draw Reese close and hold her tight, letting her work the sadness and frustration out of her through the tears that fell.
“Hey, come here. Can I give you a hug?” she asked, not worried about the implications or the confusion that had been running her ragged thirty minutes ago.
“I’m all snotty,” Reese said in a half laugh, half sob as she wiped her hand across her face.
Sydney opened her arms. “I don’t care.”
She waited—and would wait as long as Reese needed—until Reese, with a sniffle and a hiccup, scooted the six inches across the bed to where Sydney lay.
“You don’t have to do this,” Reese said as she continued to soften against Sydney’s frame, her hand coming to rest against Sydney’s stomach.
“I want to do this.” And Sydney meant it. Truly.
They lay there for a minute, Sydney stroking Reese’s temple with her fingertips in a soothing pattern, silent except for an occasional sniffle from Reese.
“When did you find out?”
Reese nuzzled her face against Sydney’s chest, leaving a tear streak across it. “Today before lunch.”
Sydney hugged Reese more tightly against her. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Reese.”
“It was only stage 1, so they’re pretty confident they got it all, but she had more tests on Friday, and she’s waiting for the results,” Reese informed her before she let out a scoff.
“My father didn’t even spend time with my mom today.
Didn’t help take her to the appointment yesterday.
Didn’t stay tonight, even though I’m sure my mom would have appreciated not going to bed alone, worrying about the results like she is. ”
Reese’s words made Sydney feel sick, and she pulled her in even closer, intertwining their legs. “That’s awful.”
She could feel Reese nodding against her chest. “I know. I was trying to be on my best behavior today, but once I knew that, and then when my dad started pretending like he’d ever welcome me at The Devereux Group, I sort of lost it.”
“I think it would have made complete sense if you’d flipped the table,” Sydney said seriously. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with him.”
“I’m more sorry this means that you have to deal with him,” Reese responded before she let out another strangled sound. “I can’t believe that I ever wanted to be like him. That I looked up to him growing up. God, I’m so stupid.”
“No, you aren’t,” Sydney said. As she felt Reese starting to get worked up again, she ran a soothing hand up and down her arm.
“You aren’t. He’s the stupid one. Throwing away an amazing daughter like you for some outdated gender roles and ideas about business?
He may be the dumbest man on the planet. ”
They lay there quietly, with Sydney stroking Reese’s temple again.
Finally, Reese’s soft voice floated up from where Sydney had wondered if she’d fallen asleep against her. “I think I’ve seen too many ‘Florida Man’ articles to believe he’s the dumbest .”
Sydney’s heart stuttered when she felt Reese smile against her chest, and without thinking, she leaned down and kissed the top of Reese’s forehead.
“That was a friendly kiss, to be clear,” she said quickly, hoping Reese didn’t pull back into herself.
Reese nuzzled in closer, her voice sleepy when she said, “I don’t care what kind of kiss it is. I just know that I appreciate it, and you.”
In seconds, Sydney could feel the even rise and fall of Reese’s chest.
Before she drifted off to sleep herself, she thought about how this was what she’d always wanted, to hold someone close, just two people finding comfort with one another in the world.
It wasn’t how she’d expected to have it, but she wouldn’t change a single thing.